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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409204">Guard My Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner'>Quickspinner</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Fade to Black, Implied Sexual Content, Luka Couffaine Loves Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Neighboring Shops, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Ten Years Later, but not yet, lbscexchange2021</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:55:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,989</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29409204</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quickspinner/pseuds/Quickspinner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette is moving out on her own and starting her own shop, where she can be the boss and responsible for no one but herself. The years have taught her that for Ladybug to do her job, Marinette has to maintain a certain amount of distance in her personal life...but how's she supposed to do that when a blast from the past is moving in next door? Especially when she's got a box full of nosy kwamis cheering her on...This was <i>not</i> the new beginning she had in mind!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2021 Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Daylight's Wasting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmReynolds/gifts">MalcolmReynolds</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy LBSC Exchaaaaaaaaange and I'm the one who gets to write for MalcolmReynolds, who's been doing so much heavy lifting making sure everything runs smoothly this year! Because I am a <i>sucker</i> I decided to combine her prompts (I should have known better, since the last time I combined prompts from Mal I ended up with Killer Combo) soooooo today you get a first chapter instead of a completed story. I'll reveal the second prompt when it is time, but the first one was neighboring shop owners. I opted for slightly different than the traditional take for Reasons.</p><p>I love you to pieces Mal and I really hope you enjoy the journey!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“This is the big day,” Tikki crowed from Marinette's shoulder, and Marinette tried to smile as she carefully maneuvered her rented van around all the other vehicles crowding the back alley. “Come on, Marinette,” Tikki said gently, nuzzling up against her cheek. “It’s okay to be excited.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am excited,” Marinette told her, putting the vehicle in park. “This is a big deal, Tikki. It’s just that there’s a lot of work to do and I need to be focused on that right now.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish you didn’t have to do all of this alone,” Tikki fretted. “It’s a lot to do by yourself. Are you sure you don’t want to call anyone?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll manage,” Marinette smiled, flexing her arm for Tikki’s benefit. “Besides,” she sighed, opening the door as Tikki zipped into the purse at her hip. “Who would I call?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tikki didn’t have a chance to answer as Marinette jumped down from the van. She glanced around the alley at her fellow business owners who were also moving in. Some of them looked almost finished; some, like her, were only just getting started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette tried not to feel a little irked at the people who were already almost done. How early had they gotten here? Maybe their renovations had been finished earlier and they’d gotten a head start. Marinette pouted for a moment, and then tried to put it out of her mind. It wasn’t a competition, after all. She just needed to focus on her own work. She had a strict schedule written out and taped to the inside of the van that would have her moved into her new shop and the apartment above it, hopefully in time to make a quick run for groceries before it got too late. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, the other shop owners probably had help or had hired people, whereas Marinette was depending on nothing but her own muscles. She couldn’t afford to hire anybody, she didn’t want to wait until her parents were free, and her friends...well. She had her life and they had their lives and other than a few friendly texts now and then, their paths didn’t really cross anymore except for major life events. Despite Tikki’s hints that opening her first boutique should have fallen into that category, it just didn’t seem worth the effort to push the issue. Marinette could do this alone. She was used to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile grew on her face as she pulled the shiny new keys from her pocket and unlocked the back door of the shop. Marinette couldn’t help a muffled squeal and a hop of excitement as it swung open wide. She kicked down the doorstop to hold it open, and went inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette passed through the back room that would serve as storage and workshop, and into the small storefront. She stood there for a moment, suddenly feeling shaky and a bit short of breath. She swallowed. “This is a really big deal, Tikki,” she said, dropping unceremoniously to the floor. She ran her fingertips over the rough texture of the commercial carpeting she had picked out. “I can’t screw this up.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t, Marinette,” Tikki assured her, peeping out cautiously. “It’s going to be okay. One step at a time, remember?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Marinette agreed, still breathless, and she pushed herself back up. “Time to get to work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got to her feet, and went back through the shop and then upstairs to the apartment, propping all the doors open, mentally reviewing her plan and where everything would go. Marinette felt both excitement and relief at the thought of finally living on her own, with no one else to make excuses to. Starting tonight, no one would be monitoring her coming and going, or asking where she’d been, or complaining that she’d left her share of the chores undone. No one to report to, no one to worry, no one to disappoint. As nervous as she was about the risks of this new venture, that alone would be a weight off her shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doors open and empty rooms ready, Marinette went back outside. She threw up the gate on the back of the van, pulled out the ramp, and took a deep breath as she surveyed the contents, nervousness suddenly threatening to overshadow her earlier confidence. “Okay,” she murmured to herself. “It looks like a lot, all stuffed together like this, but I can do it. Somehow.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette had packed the van carefully, and her boxes were meticulously labelled and color coded with stickers, so that she knew as soon as she picked a box up whether it was for the shop interior, the back room, or the apartment upstairs. Her world narrowed to the task before her, and she didn’t even notice the looks she got as she hauled box after box and pieces of disassembled furniture into her new space. Her muscles burned, but it was a familiar sensation, a </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal </span>
  </em>
  <span>sensation. Marinette had learned to take comfort from anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>normal</span>
  </em>
  <span>, especially on a day like today, when so much was changing. The burn was a reminder to pause and stretch and take a moment to breathe, and that helped keep her focused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When it started to verge on </span>
  <em>
    <span>too much</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Marinette sat down on the ledge of her propped-open shop door to rest and drink a bottle of water, mentally assessing her progress and comparing it against her schedule. She was doing pretty well, she thought, although the hard stuff was still to come. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped, nearly spilling her water all over herself, and looked up to the man who had spoken to her. Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “L-Luka?” she gasped, scrambling to her feet. “Is that you?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned, and there was no mistaking it. His hair was a little bit longer, still streaked with blue but tied back at the nape of his neck, and his bangs were clipped back away from his sweaty face. His dimples were more prominent in his leaner face, his jaw more defined, but his smile and his eyes were the same. “Hey,” he said, as calmly as if they’d last seen each other yesterday instead of almost ten years ago, as he adjusted the box he was holding. “Wow, what a surprise, meeting you here.” That was putting it mildly, and Marinette almost laughed at the typically Luka understatement. His eyes flicked to the propped open door and his eyebrows went a little higher. “Are you...moving in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Marinette said, running her hand through her sweaty bangs, and trying to find the ground again. She hadn’t expected to run into </span>
  <em>
    <span>anybody</span>
  </em>
  <span> she knew today, let alone Luka. She hadn’t even known for sure that he was back in Paris. Marientte felt a pang looking at him, something between guilt and grief, and she suddenly didn’t know what to say.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka shifted his box again, drawing her eyes to both the box and the bunched muscles in the arms holding it. Her eyes snapped back to his face. “Wait,” she said incredulously, “Are you—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yep,” he grinned, and nodded at the next door down from hers. “I’m on the corner, so...looks like we’re gonna be neighbors.” He groaned and hiked the box up again. “I’m sorry, I’ve gotta put this down, but—when we’re done, maybe we could grab coffee or something, catch up? If you want to?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure!” Marinette smiled brightly. “I’d love to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The slow grin that spread over his face made her insides wobble a little. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Wow</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he really grew up</span>
  </em>
  <span>. That smile had been intense enough when they were younger; with the sharper features of his more mature face it was devastating. “Okay. I’ll come over when I’m done and give you a hand if you’re still working. See you later.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye.” Marinette waved weakly, as Luka went to his own door, propped open like hers was.  “Oh my God, Tikki,” Marinette hissed, and heard a giggle near her hip. “This isn’t funny, Tikki, what am I going to do?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just go with it, Marinette,” Tikki advised cheerfully. “I know you’ve been lonely, and Luka was always a good friend to you. Maybe this is fate bringing you back together!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tikki,” Marinette sighed, and leaned back against the building behind her, tipping her head back to knock gently against it. She paused, and then opened her purse to look down at the kwami and give her a look. “Fate, or luck?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it matter?” Tikki asked, shrugging. Her big eyes softened and she reached out just enough to pat Marinette’s hand. “I know you feel bad about the way you two left things, but Luka was always good for you, and you could use a friend like him right now. It doesn’t have to be romantic, Marinette. Don’t overthink it. It’s not good for you to be so alone, so just give it a chance and see what happens!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette rolled her eyes and sighed, and then checked the time. She needed to get moving if she wanted to stay on schedule, and people were going to think she was crazy if they saw her talking to her handbag.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had to wait a moment, though, when she got back to the van, for her legs to steady. Luka Couffaine...she hadn’t seen him since he left to tour with Jagged Stone when they were kids. She bit her lip hard. Ugh, how could Luka even want to be her friend now after the way things had happened back then…she’d been so confused, and trying so hard to manage her life and her feelings, and she’d been failing so miserably. Luka had been so kind to her, and tried to help, and she hadn’t even kept in touch with him when he left. If anyone had genuine reason to call her a bad friend, it would definitely be Luka. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette swallowed and took a deep breath and climbed up into the van. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Focus</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she told herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Just focus on what you have to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed the closest box and hauled it out blindly. She risked a glance over as she walked by, and saw several young men and a woman, all with multicolored hair, carrying furniture from an even larger moving van into Luka’s place. Then she put her head down and went to her own door, determined. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette did her best not to look towards Luka’s van again, telling herself it would only distract her, and she couldn’t afford to be distracted if she wanted to get this task done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything went according to plan until she got to the wrought iron headboard of her new bed. She’d been able to lift it on her own before, but she realized now, as her arms trembled, that she should have placed this a little earlier in the unloading order. Well, she was going to have to make it work. She got it down the ramp of the van, and had to stand for a moment, bracing it as her muscles twitched and trembled, as she looked at the distance she had to cover to get to the door and thought of the stairs after that. She swore softly, and leaned her forehead against the frame as she tried to muster the strength.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand squeezed her shoulder. “We got it, just tell us where you want it,” Luka said, as Marinette looked up at him in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” she said reflexively, “I can—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you can,” Luka grunted, grabbing one end of the headboard as one of his friends got the other. “But something like this is easier with two people.” He grinned. “Upstairs, I assume?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y-yeah,” Marinette stammered weakly. “The bedroom. Um—” She ran back up in the van and grabbed the first pink-stickered box she came to. “This way,” she smiled at the boys, and went ahead of them, face burning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, this is so much easier than all that heavy shit you brought,” Luka’s friend groaned, and Marinette giggled in spite of herself when Luka cheerfully told him to kiss his ass. The boys carried her headboard in and leaned it against the wall where Marinette directed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she told them sincerely, and Luka winked at her as he followed his friend out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let us know if you need a hand with anything else,” he told her, and they were gone before Marinette had a chance to say anything else.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She ended up not having to ask him for help at all, because anytime she was struggling, either Luka or one or more of his friends would pop up to help her. Marinette was both touched by Luka’s concern and willingness to help, and angry at herself, for planning so poorly that she needed the help in the first place—no matter how much his friends joked that hauling her stuff was a nice break compared to hauling Luka’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stupid</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she scolded herself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Took on too much, as usual, and what would you have done if Luka hadn’t been around? Poor guy, he wasn’t expecting to have to haul extra stuff today, either. We’re back in touch for one day and he’s already having to bail me out. Just like old times. Nice to know I haven’t grown in the least in the last ten years. </span>
  </em>
  <span>She kept working with grim determination, trying not to look like she needed more help, and getting angrier at herself every time one of them stopped to give her a hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, she was done. She locked up the van and the apartment, and then went to stand once again in her shop front. There was still a lot to be done to it over the next two weeks before the big grand opening event, but now that the move-in was done, she could finally get started. Some of the fixtures she had negotiated with the leasing company, like the carpeted pedestal in one corner where she could do fittings and the full-length three-way mirrors. She’d created the countertop for her register herself, but the company had built the counter and installed her custom top on it for her. Marinette drifted over to it now and ran her fingertips over the resin surface with her monogram M and real pink flowers embedded in it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It turned out really well</span>
  </em>
  <span>, she thought to herself, and smiled. That was one thing that went right, at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped, but then remembered she hadn’t closed the back door yet. “I’m in here,” she called, and a moment Luka came through the door of the workroom, looking around. He grinned, seeing her stand behind the register. “Making yourself at home?” He moved around the front as if he were a customer, and Marinette giggled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that,” she said with a shrug. “How goes the unloading?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sweaty and filthy, but at least we’re done,” Luka grinned, leaning both elbows on Marinette’s handmade custom countertop. She resisted the urge to shove him off it. “How about you? Need anymore help with anything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette shook her head quickly. “No, thank you. I’m done, and I feel disgusting.” She grinned weakly. “To be honest, there’s nothing I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now than coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Agreed,” Luka chuckled. “I’ll buy you whatever you want, as long as it’s cold.” He winced slightly. “And cheap. This place kinda cleaned me out.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hear you,” Marinette laughed, coming out from behind the counter. It felt too weird, having it between them. “I’m in the same boat. The only reason I could afford this at all is because my grandpa passed away and left all his things to me. Turned out there were a bunch of companies waiting for the old man to die so they could make a bid on his house. They’ve been trying to get the property for years but Grandpa wouldn't sell.” She folded her arms and leaned back on the counter next to him as Luka straightened to face her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry about your Grandpa,” Luka said, putting his hand on her shoulder. The hand was bigger, but the gesture was the same, and Marinette felt a tender pang for the boy who had loved her. “I know your relationship with him was complicated.” Marinette nodded, but she didn’t really want to talk about it. Luka dropped his hand and gestured towards the door. “Listen, I still owe my friends Chinese and beer for helping me move—and before you say anything, I budgeted for that in my moving expenses.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sound so responsible,” Marinette giggled, and he made a face at her before continuing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you join us, if you feel up to it?” he suggested. “If not, that’s cool, I can bring you back something and we can catch up some other time when we’ve had a little more rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette hesitated a moment. She wasn’t sure she was up to meeting new people, and a shower would feel awfully good right now, but...they had helped her, and she felt like it would be rude to turn down their company. She bit her lip and glanced at Luka. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled. “No pressure. If you just want to relax after all this, that’s okay. I can’t believe how much crap you moved out of that van all by yourself.” His brow creased for a moment, but he seemed to change his mind about saying anything else, and just waited.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>So Luka.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Marinette smiled suddenly. “Papa’s going to help me with the one or two really big things this weekend, and the rest I figured I could handle myself. I guess I overestimated myself a little bit. I really appreciated your help, though. I do want to relax, but…it has been ages since we could hang out. If you don’t think your friends will mind—a cold beer sounds awfully good right now…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka snorted. “Since I’m buying, they’re not allowed to mind,” he said with a grin.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Feeling daring, Marinette linked her arm through Luka’s. “Tell you what. Since we’re both on the verge of broke right now, how about we each buy our own drinks, and I pay for my share of the food plus a little bit to cover you guys helping me out,” she suggested, “and the first one to hit the black owes the other dinner?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Deal,” Luka grinned, and warmth fluttered in Marinette’s stomach. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, um,” she said, looking away as they walked back out of the shop. “Music shop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka chuckled as they paused by the door so Marinette could lock up. “You’d think, but, ah...actually, it’s antiques and collectibles. And uh...curiosities.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not allowed to say junk, but you know Mom. Her taste is...weird.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Marinette looked back at him, shocked. “You’re kidding.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Mom’s been on her world tour, sending home crap from all over, and finally there didn’t seem anything else to do.” He gave her a sideways grin that told her there was probably more to the story than that, but he clearly didn’t want to talk about it. He offered her his arm again as she turned away from the door. “I talked to her about it and we went in on the shop together. She’s going to be my buyer and I’m going to run the business. A lot of what I’ve got is music related, though,” he admitted. “And I’ve maybe started a little collection of my own. I still love playing, but I like small audiences anyway, and well...if the shop does okay, then I’m hoping I’ll have a little more freedom to pick and choose my gigs without worrying about whether I’m going to eat that month.” He winced. “We’ll...see how that works out for me. Mom’s pretty gung ho, but...” He shrugged. “She never really was one for practicalities. I mean, I know I won’t starve if the place fails, she and...and Jagged would bail me out if I were really in trouble, but I really don’t want to have to fall back on that.” Marinette nodded sympathetically at the expression on his face. It seemed like he still had mixed feelings about Jagged, even after all this time, and Marinette could hardly blame him. “To be honest,” he went on, “this whole thing is kind of a gamble and I’m nervous about it, but it beats working for The Man, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me about it,” Marinette sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka put his hand over hers where it rested on his arm and she looked up at him. “Hey,” he said, in the same gentle way he used to when they were kids. “We got this. We’re gonna kick ass and be living in luxury.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette laughed. “I’d settle for being able to afford pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka groaned. “Please don’t mention pizza, I’m still traumatized.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette laughed again, and leaned into his arm, and he leaned back, chuckling along with her, and...it was like nothing had ever changed. Marinette felt her breath catch and a sudden lump in her throat, and Luka paused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, looking down at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette nodded quickly, blinking back the tears that wanted to come out. “Sorry, I—I’m just glad to see you again, that’s all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka smiled at her, and maybe it was just the heat but she thought he was blushing slightly. He took her hand off his arm and moved it down to his own hand, and threaded his fingers tightly through hers. “Likewise,” he said, squeezing, and Marinette smiled, squeezing back.  She was selfishly glad to find he hadn’t changed too much, deep down. His hand dwarfed hers the same way it always had, but it gave her an odd little flutter now to look at her fingers between his. They stood for just a moment, and then Luka started walking again, tugging her along with him. He let go of her hand just before they reached the group of his friends standing around and put his hand on her back instead. “Hey, guys, this is Marinette. We’ve been friends for a long time and I haven’t seen her for ages, so she’s coming along with us.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette gave an awkward wave. “Thanks a bunch for the help,” she said, “I told Luka I’d help pick up the tab as thanks. “ They all grinned at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Congrats, you’ve just won their undying loyalty,” Luka commented dryly. “Bunch of mercenaries.” He put just a little pressure against her back and gestured vaguely. “There’s a place a couple blocks over, we were just going to walk if that’s okay with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Marinette agreed, and the small group shuffled off. Luka let his hand fall once she started moving, but he stayed beside her, which she secretly appreciated, since the others were strangers. They seemed perfectly comfortable with each other, though, joking and shoving and teasing. Marinette found herself smiling as she watched them. This was what she was fighting so hard to protect, after all, even if it was something she couldn’t really have anymore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka touched her arm lightly, and when she looked up at him, he raised his eyebrows at her slightly in silent inquiry. She smiled at him to let him know she was good. He relaxed a little, and turned back to the conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was some friendly chaos as everyone ordered their food and Luka and Marinette negotiated the split, but finally they all had their dinners and enough chairs to seat everyone. Marinette hadn’t realized how hungry she was until her food was in front of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ugh, I’m so hungry,” Luka moaned beside her, and there was a chorus of agreement that made her chuckle. The chatter didn’t exactly stop, but it slowed down considerably as they all applied themselves to their food. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette focused on her plate and just let the talk flow around her, thoughts drifting again to all of the things she needed to do between now and the grand opening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She only realized she had lost the thread of the conversation entirely when Evan’s words caught her attention again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I dunno, man, this neighborhood’s had bad juju since Ladybug and Chat Noir took down Hawkmoth,” he was saying, shaking his head slightly. “The whole area was levelled. Even though Ladybug fixed it, people don’t seem to stay and businesses don’t stay open. My sister said that’s why they shut everything down and redid all the buildings. One last-ditch effort at trying to revive the place. Turn it into artisan shops, make it attractive to tourists and hipsters.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka shrugged. “I feel a lot better about my chances now that I know Marinette’s next door,” he said, nudging her with his elbow and grinning at her when she swatted him. “She’s got a great head for business and marketing. It can’t be a lost cause if she’s here.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette snorted. “Maybe it’s just all I could afford,” she said, making a face at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The price was right, that’s for sure,” Luka admitted. “Either way, it can only benefit me to have you attracting traffic next door. Although maybe I’m assuming too much, are you still doing fashion?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Marinette confirmed. “I graduated from ESMOD last year. I’ve...well, I decided the regular industry jobs aren’t for me, and that I’d be better off working somewhere where I could be the boss.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Also I can’t stay employed when I have to run off to akuma attacks constantly.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just surprised you picked this spot, that’s all,” Evan chuckled.  “I thought sailors were superstitious.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re also cheap,” Luka snorted. “This was the best option I had that didn’t involve going to the old man, and—” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And that woulda been fireworks,” Dingo laughed. “I almost wish you’d suggested it so I could’ve watched the Captain freak out about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m sure it would have been fun for </span>
  <em>
    <span>you.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Luka threw a peanut at him. “Since I’d be the one in the blast radius, I don’t think so.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, just so you know, I’m gonna laugh my ass off if Harvester levels this neighborhood the week after your grand opening,” Evan cut back in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unlikely,” Marinette said without thinking, and everyone turned to look at her. She blinked, and then shrugged. “Hawkmoth caused damage on purpose, to lure out Ladybug and Chat Noir because he wanted their Miraculous. Harvester doesn’t seem to care about the Miraculous; she’ll take them if she can get them, but she’s just...I don’t know, greedy. She causes plenty of damage on a small scale, but she doesn’t usually destroy whole neighborhoods. There’s nothing where we are that’s worth her targeting, though. Besides, her targets tend to be in the wealthier areas of town.” She made a slightly sour face. It was bad enough that they hadn’t managed to recover the butterfly with Hawkmoth’s defeat. It was worse that it fell into the hands of someone as selfish and greedy as Harvester. She was barely more than a petty thief, and it was a burn to Ladybug’s pride that they hadn’t been able to catch her yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trouble was, because Harvester lacked the kind of focus that Hawkmoth had had, she was less predictable, and more ruthless. There had been a certain rhythm to Hawkmoth’s attacks that Ladybug and Chat Noir had learned to work with over time to minimize damage. Harvester was much more random. She didn’t care what kind of damage she caused, she didn’t care if people got hurt—she just didn’t care, period. She wanted attention, and she wanted expensive things, and she didn’t care who suffered if she didn’t get her way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scratch that. She did care about one person’s suffering—Ladybug’s. She didn’t seem to care about their Miraculous, but she wanted Ladybug. Alive if possible, but she’d shown more than once that she wasn’t opposed to Ladybug very painfully dead, either. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette shuddered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka’s hand fell on her shoulder and she looked up at him, startled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked softly, leaning in a little. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course,” she lied automatically, with a bright, extremely fake smile. “Just tired.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’d forgotten how good Luka was at seeing lies. She could see in his face that he didn’t believe her, but he gave her a small smile that said </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s okay, you don’t have to tell me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and turned back to the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette took a breath and tried to tune back into the conversation as Dingo, Evan, and Marcie continued their good-natured ribbing over Luka’s new enterprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So how do you two know each other again?” Marcie asked, and Marinette froze, her mouth full of noodles. She glanced up and saw Marcie watching her with slightly narrowed eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette went to school with Juleka,” Luka replied easily. “We got to be friends right before I left with Jagged.” His tone was pleasant, but he cut his eyes up at Marcie in a sharp look that Marinette didn’t quite understand. Marcie clearly did, though, because she said something inane and changed the subject. Dingo and Evan exchanged a look, and then Evan looked down at his plate and Dingo looked at Marinette with a thoughtful expression—or at least she thought so, but it was hard to tell because he was still wearing his sunglasses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was having trouble getting that mouthful of noodles down with him looking at her like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ding,” Luka said mildly, without looking away from his own food, and Dingo huffed, shook his head, and went back to eating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It still took effort to chew and swallow, and Marinette shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and began trying to think of a way to make her exit. Before she could, Luka put down his chopsticks and started closing the containers nearest to him. “Well,” he said, “I’m really grateful for the help today, guys. You guys can all consider one favor knocked off the big stack that every single one of you owes me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was laughter and protests, and Luka raised his voice to be heard over them. “But I’m exhausted, and I still have to shower and get at least enough of my stuff unpacked that I have somewhere to sleep tonight, so I think I’m going to head back. Are you still eating, Marinette?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, no, I’m good,” Marinette said hastily, recognizing the out as she began packing up her own containers. “Mind if I walk back with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” Luka smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey Lu,” Dingo called after them, and Luka looked back as he opened the door and held it for Marinette. “Don’t be a dumbass, man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka just flipped Dingo off with his free hand and followed Marinette out of the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They know, huh?” Marinette muttered as the door fell shut behind them, and Luka sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” he said. “Not the details, but...enough. I’m sorry they made you uncomfortable.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette shrugged. “Not like I don’t deserve it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed in a light half hug, turning her in the right direction as they started walking. “I forgave you a long time ago, for what it’s worth. We were just dumb kids. Not to say the feelings weren’t real, but let’s just say we hadn’t exactly reached the age of sober judgement yet and leave it at that, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette shook her head. “I still feel like I...owe you an apology for all that. I wasn’t very considerate of your feelings. If...if it hadn’t been for Adrien…” Marinette began, and trailed off as Luka’s arm tightened around her. “It’s just,” Marinette tried to control her breathing, and blinked quickly to keep the tears back. “I tried so hard to keep everything together, and it all kind of fell apart anyway, and looking back, I just...wish I’d made some different choices about my priorities. About which people I put my energy into. I’m just...I’m sorry I didn’t choose you, Luka. I’m...sorry I didn’t stay in touch after you left.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka blew out a slow breath. “It was a crazy time for both of us. That year with Jagged, it was...it was a lot. I’m honestly not sure I’d have been able to keep up my end, so. Don’t worry about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You...still don’t get along with Jagged too well?” Marinette ventured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka rolled his eyes. “Having one parent constantly acting like a child was more than enough, I really didn’t need a second parent to take care of.” He winced. “Sorry, that came out a lot more bitter than I meant. It’s not like I expected him to act like a dad, but…” Luka shook his head. “Anyway, a year of that lifestyle was enough. I finally told him I was going home. I’m not interested in anything he can give me. Maybe it would have been different, if I’d done it on my own, but...there is no on my own anymore. I can’t make it in that industry without being attached to him, and I just...don’t want that.” He gave her a rueful grin. “Is that stupid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Marinette said, reaching up and curling her hand around his where it rested on her shoulder. “No, not all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled at her, and she dropped her hand. They walked in silence the rest of the way. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, home sweet home,” Luka said, letting his arm fall as they walked up the steps to the balcony that ran along the back of the buildings, providing outdoor access to their apartments. “This gonna be weird,” he admitted, as they paused in front of his door. “I’ve never lived alone before.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither,” Marinette admitted with a nervous giggle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka smiled at her. “Well, if you ever need anything, or you just want to talk or hangout or whatever.” He nodded to his door. “You know where to find me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s a dangerous promise,” Marinette tried to smile, but she wasn’t sure it worked. “You did so much for me before, and never got anything back for it. I feel like I took advantage of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t,” Luka replied immediately, like she should have known he would. “Marinette, even if that were true, and I really don’t think it is...I never did any of that for...payback, or something. I wasn’t expecting anything out of you. I just wanted you to be happy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette couldn’t think of anything to say to that. It was true that everything he’d done for her, he’d done voluntarily, and that she had done </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> things for him, although they were more really for Kitty Section as a whole, but...it didn’t change the way she felt. She’d failed Luka, just like she failed everyone that cared about her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jolted slightly when she felt his hand on her shoulder again. Luka let go quickly, his hand hovering there as he looked over her face. She started to open her mouth to apologize, but Luka let his hand drop. “I’ll see you soon, neighbor,” was all he said, and then he turned to unlock his own door. He gave her a smile over his shoulder, and though it looked different on his adult face, it was the same smile he used to give her, the one that said he had faith in her, no matter whether she had any in herself at the moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then his door closed with a quiet click, and she was standing there alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette,” Tikki whispered after a moment, reaching out of Marinette’s purse to touch her hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette jumped slightly, and then turned to her own door, fumbling her keys out. She unlocked it and went inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette?” Tikki zipped out of her purse to float at eye level, her expression sympathetic and concerned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette gave her a weak smile. “I can’t decide if I’m glad he’s there, or if I’m upset about it. He’s always been so observant. What if…” She trailed off, and folded her arms uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tikki tilted her head slightly. “Is that really what you’re worried about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette bit her lip. “Not really,” she admitted. “It’s just…” She folded her arms and chewed her lip, trying to find a way to articulate her feelings. “Luka’s easy to depend on,” she said softly. “Having him right there...I’m not sure it’s good for me. I’m afraid I’ll...I don’t know. Be tempted to lean on him more than I should, and end up hurting him all over again. Not that—not that he feels the same as he did back then, but Luka’s still Luka, he just...he’s a helper, and I’ll end up asking too much and he’ll resent me and he’ll end up selling his shop just to get away from me and—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette!” Tikki waved her arms to catch her attention. “Okay, I get it. But Luka does live next door and there’s nothing either of you can do about that now. So what </span>
  <em>
    <span>can</span>
  </em>
  <span> we do?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette sighed. “I just have to be careful,” she decided. “I have to make sure I don’t ask him for too much. For...for some things, maybe, because Luka’s discreet and he doesn’t ask questions so there might be times when I can ask him to cover for me and stuff...but not too much. Only when I really need it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Tikki flew in close and laid a paw on Marinette’s cheek. “That sounds like a good plan. We just take one day at a time, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One day at a time,” Marinette agreed, and then smiled. “And we still have to get this apartment fit to live in, so let’s let the others out and get started making this place into home. We can do the groceries tomorrow.” Dinner with Luka had not been in her schedule, after all, but...this once, she didn’t mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s the spirit!” Tikki cheered, and followed Marinette towards the bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was weird, that first night, with the smell of fresh paint and cardboard, and all the noises from outside that were so different than the ones she was used to. It was hard to go to sleep, especially when there was so much to </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the kwamis finally bullied her to bed, and their presence tucked in all around her gave her enough comfort to doze off. The same weirdness woke her early in the morning, and she wandered around her apartment like a zombie in her striped pajama pants and tank as she waited for her coffee to be ready. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was halfway through her second mug, still staring blankly at the pile of boxes and making absent noises of agreement now and then at the chattering kwami perched around her, when a knock on her door made her jump and sent the kwamis scattering for cover. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Frowning, Marinette padded to the door in her bare feet, coffee cup in hand, and stood on her toes to peek out of the slightly-too-high peephole. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Luka?” she said in surprise, and opened the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he smiled at her. “I was going to do a grocery run, and I saw you didn’t have a car, so...I thought maybe you’d like a ride with me?” He held up a motorcycle helmet. “Not exactly the same as my old bike,” he grinned, “But if memory serves, you can handle it.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette burst into giggles. “I can handle anything you can handle,” she said when she could control herself, folding her arms and cocking a hip. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka’s smile warmed, and he winked at her. “Finish your coffee and meet me downstairs in ten.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took most of that time for her to dig out her riding gear; she hadn’t expected to need it anytime soon, so it wasn’t particularly accessible, but thanks to her overly detailed box organization system, augmented by a little kwami assistance, she found the right box and got it open, pulling out her black padded jacket with pink panels on the sides, and her carefully-packed black and pink helmet with her flowers stenciled on the side. A little more digging found black motorcycle boots with pink hardware up the side to hold the lacing. She put it all on over a t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and hurried for the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait!” Kaalki cried, bursting out of another box, towing something sparkly. “Don’t forget these! You haven’t seen him in years, so you simply must look </span>
  <em>
    <span>fabulous</span>
  </em>
  <span>!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette giggled and took the glasses Kaalki held out to her. “Thanks, Kaalki.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re not as good as mine,” Kaalki huffed, fluffing her mane. “But they’ll do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka did a double-take when he saw her, his eyebrows practically flying off his forehead they shot up so fast. Marinette giggled at his reaction. “Grandma,” she shrugged with a grin, and slid the chrome riding glasses with pink lenses and rhinestones lining the frame. Luka burst out laughing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look amazing,” he said, trying to stifle the laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Marinette sniffed. “She decked me out so she could take me on a road trip for my eighteenth birthday.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice,” Luka grinned, zipping up his own padded jacket and swinging one leg over the bike. “I want to hear all about it later.” He jerked his head. “Come on, hop aboard. I hope your list isn’t too long, we can’t carry too much on this thing, but we should be able to get the essentials.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette didn’t bother answering, putting on her helmet instead and then climbing aboard behind Luka. Her list </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been long, but she could live without most of it for a few days. This might actually work out better, giving her a chance to get the essentials so she’d have less to carry when she went back for the rest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka showed her where to put her feet, and grinned back at her before he strapped on his own helmet. “Just like old times.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not quite like old times,” she giggled, putting her hands on his waist. “I’m really glad to have you back though,” she said quietly, not sure whether she wanted him to hear her or not. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He must have heard though, because Luka put one gloved hand over hers for just a moment, and then started the bike. “Tap my shoulder twice if you need me to stop,” he called back as he backed them out of the space. He blew out a breath, and then flipped down his helmet’s visor and took off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since she’d been on a motorcycle, so she tried to concentrate on moving with him as they rode. She was rewarded by a smile when they dismounted the bike and Luka pulled his helmet off. “Your grandma’s a good teacher,” he said. “You’re easy to ride with.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks,” Marinette smiled, letting him stow her gear with his. “Don’t buy any bread,” she warned him as they walked into the store. “My parents are going to be by sometime today or tomorrow I’m sure, and as soon as they hear you’re my neighbor I know they’ll bring extra.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to say no to that,” Luka chuckled. “Anything your dad makes is going to be way better than anything they’ll have here.” They shared a smile, and a slightly awkward silence fell between them as they each picked up baskets and started walking through the store. Marinette wondered if she should go off on her own, but the store wasn’t that big and she’d probably keep bumping into him and then that would be weird and she couldn’t just ditch him— </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are your folks doing these days?” Luka asked, picking up a box off the shelf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“O-oh, they’re...they’re good. Well. I mean, pretty much the same as always, you know?” she said, flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are they handling you moving out?” he asked, smiling as he put the box in his basket and then stuck his hand in his pocket as they strolled forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette let her head drop back and gave a sigh of longsuffering. “They’re...doing their best,” she giggled. “They’re very enthusiastic, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Holding a lot back?” Luka smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not very successfully,” Marinette giggled. “What about you, how’s your family doing? How’s J-Juleka?” she asked, and tensed when Luka gave her a sideways glance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty good,” he said, selecting a box from the shelf to put in his basket. “I haven’t told her yet that I ran into you.” He glanced at her again. “You want me to, or should I not? I know you girls lost touch a while ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette shrugged without looking at him, blushing faintly. “I don’t mind. We didn’t have a falling out or anything, just you know...time, and stuff. She probably doesn’t want to hear from me, maybe you should just not mention it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka smiled, eyes on the shelf as they strolled. “I don’t know. Juleka and me, we were always taught that people have to live their lives, you know? You appreciate them while you have them, and you let them go when your paths drift apart. You were always going places, Marinette, everybody knew that. I don’t think Juleka will hold it against you.” His smile broadened, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “She’s been doing some dream chasing of her own, after all.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Marinette said, taking the phone when he handed it to her. She looked at the image and her mouth dropped open. “Oh my gosh, she really did it? She’s a model?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cosmetics mostly so far,” Luka told her with a smile. “She’s trying to get into clothing and runway but she’s done really well with the cosmetics companies. Her eyes are so amazing and her skin’s always been flawless.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She looks beautiful,” Marinette sighed, handing the phone back. “Is she happy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She seems to be.” Luka pocketed the phone, and went back to shopping, giving a pointed look at Marinette’s empty basket. She hurriedly turned to the shelves too, trying to make herself focus on her list. “Anyway, she’s had to let a few things go in the process, so I think she’d understand. She did have to get a new number a while back, but I can give her yours if you want me to.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well…” Marinette still felt a flutter of nerves, but she pushed it down. “Sure.” She smiled weakly. “You always make everything so easy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Luka chuckled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Marinette smiled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the same for me, you know,” Luka said, and Marinette blinked at him in confusion. “About the friends coming and going, I mean. It’s just a part of life, Marinette. It’s not something you should be embarrassed or ashamed about. It’s just the way things are.” He gave her a kind smile. “There were a lot of friends I left behind that year with Jagged. I wasn’t kidding about how busy I was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette smiled, though she kept her focus on the shelves. “You’re still friends with Dingo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t remind me,” Luka chuckled. “I can’t get rid of him. There’s some people, you know, where no matter how long you go without talking. With Dingo, no matter how much time passes, it’s like we last talked yesterday. Besides, he knows all my secrets. I can’t afford to cut him loose.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette sighed. “That must be nice though. Having someone who knows you that well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Luka agreed. “Though mostly he just uses it to make my life hell. Thank God he’s still chasing Brielle or I’d never get rid of him. He has to pretend to be an adult at least half the time to convince her he’s still worth wasting her time on.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, they’re still together?” Marinette giggled. “That’s impressive.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They are, they aren’t, they are again. It’s…” Luka shook his head. “Not my idea of the ideal relationship, but it works for them—well, most of the time—so…” he shrugged. “I’m chronically single, though, so who am I to judge.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Marinette finally looked up at him. “Why? I mean—” she turned red and spluttered, and Luka had to dodge her flying grocery basket as she tried to frantically erase the question with her flailing hands. “Ooooh, I’m sorry, that was so nosy.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” Luka laughed. “Relax, Marinette. What about you? Anyone special in your life?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette’s face heated, but she figured Luka was the last person on earth likely to judge her relationship history. “Me? Oh, no. I had a few flings in high school and uni, but…” she shrugged. “They never lasted long. I’m...not very good at casual, but I don’t have a lot of time to give a relationship. It seemed like no matter how hard I tried it all tended to fall apart sooner rather than later. Eventually, I just stopped trying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Timing,” Luka sighed sympathetically, shaking his head, “Timing is a bitch, no doubt.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette hunched her shoulders a little. “You can say that again.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka touched her arm gently, and they finished the rest of their shopping with lighter small talk, mostly about all the crazy shenanigans Anarka was up to now that she was free and unfettered with both of her children out of the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took some ingenuity to get their purchases loaded on the bike, and Marinette had a few things precariously wedged between herself and Luka, but they made it home without losing anything, and that was what mattered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luka stopped at his door, while Marinette kept walking to hers. She was still trying to get her keys out of her pocket when Luka got his door open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette,” he said, and she looked at him in surprise. “If you need anything, let me know, okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh...um, sure,” Marinette said as brightly as she could, remembering her vow the night before not to ask him for anything more than necessary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean it.” Luka held her gaze for a moment and grinned. “Because I have like a million favors I’d like to ask, and I need to start stockpiling on my end. I could use some help with branding and advertising, for starters.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette blinked, and then laughed, and she saw his shoulders relax a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can just ask, you know,” she told him, and Luka shook his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope. Fair’s fair. Every artist deserves payment for their work, I just don’t have the cash handy for it. So if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. It’ll be a down payment on designing my new signage.” He grinned at her one more time, and then opened his door and was gone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was...so Luka, she thought affectionately, coming up with a way to put the offer of his help out there in a way she couldn’t refuse. She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be mad at him for daring to see through her so easily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well. She definitely didn’t want a repeat of last time, where she was constantly taking from him and giving nothing in return. But surely, an equal trade would be okay? She could do that without making it weird. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened her door and stepped inside, and was immediately swarmed by kwami hoping for a snack. “Only one each!” she scolded them all, making her way to the kitchen. “We’re never going to make this work if you’re constantly eating me out of house and home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you enjoy your trip?” Sass asked her, and she met his knowing smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I did,” she said, lifting a finger to poke him in the belly. “It’s good to see him again.” She smiled. “He’s doing well, Sass.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sass chuckled, still giving her that same look. “That isss good to hear.” Marinette narrowed her eyes at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we ssstill painting the shop tomorrow?” Sass asked innocently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Marinette said firmly. “We have a lot of work to do before the grand opening.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Bright as Ever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“It looks so great, Marinette!” Tikki squealed and Marinette sat back on her heels and looked up, smiling as she rubbed a forearm across her forehead. </p><p>“It really does,” Marinette agreed, her voice slightly muffled by the mask she was wearing to filter out some of the paint fumes. She laid her paintbrush carefully aside and looked up. “How’s it going up there?” she asked, and dodged a glob of black paint just in time. “Careful,” she scolded, scrubbing at the spot with a rag even though she had a drop cloth on the floor for just this reason.</p><p>“My apologies,” Wayzz said above her, moving so that his paintbrush was hovering over the paint can and not Marinette’s head. “You startled me. I am almost done.” </p><p>“Good,” Marinette smiled, and resisted the urge to tell him to hurry up. Wayzz was careful, which was why she had selected him to help her with this final stage, filling in the last of the narrow curlicues and flowers she had roughed in days ago. His care came at the price of speed, though, and sometimes his slowness made Marinette want to scream.</p><p>It was still more efficient to have Wayzz filling in the upper portion than for Marinette to get up on a ladder to do it, and the kwami was so happy to be helping that she didn’t have the heart to rush him, so she throttled down her impatience and walked out to the middle of the room to spin a slow circle and take it all in. She’d had most of the kwamis in here helping at one time or another, because this would be their home as well and she wanted them to feel some ownership and investment in it. The walls that surrounded her were now a soft pink, with her signature flowers in darker pink and black at all the corners and coordinating scrollwork anywhere that seemed too empty. Framed photographs from her portfolio were stacked in a corner and covered with a cloth. She’d hang those tomorrow, once the paint was dry. The back wall that they were finishing up now had her flower design on a much larger scale, framing the little sales counter. Fixtures and clothing racks were all shoved to the center of the room at the moment, but now that the painting was done, she could start getting that arranged. She wasn’t ahead of her plan by any means, but she was on track.</p><p>She noticed a shadow against the paper covering the shop’s front door just before there was a rap on the glass. Marinette waited for Wayzz and Tikki to zip out of sight, and then went to answer it. She was pretty sure she recognized the silhouette, and sure enough, Luka’s friendly grin greeted her as she opened the door. </p><p>“Hi,” he said, a little sheepishly. “I’m trying to move a table and I could use a hand. Would you mind coming over when you have a second?” </p><p>Marinette smiled. “I have a second now,” she said, stepping out and checking her pocket for her key before she let the door close behind her.</p><p>Luka chuckled and tapped the mask Marinette was still wearing, and she blushed beneath it. “Oh. Right.” She took it off, embarrassed as she rubbed at the lines she was sure it had left on her face. She opened the door again and dropped the mask back inside, knowing that one of the kwamis would retrieve it for her.</p><p>“You could just prop the doors open,” Luka suggested as they walked over to his space. </p><p>Marinette huffed. “I don’t like being watched while I work,” she replied, which was only half a lie. It was true she didn’t especially want people looking in on her while she was contorted around, potentially with her ass in the air, trying to find a good position to do what she needed without leaning into wet paint. Mostly, though, she didn’t want the kwamis on display for any passers-by. </p><p>She smiled a little as Luka held the door of his own shop open and motioned her inside. It had a more industrial warehouse feel, with exposed beams in the walls and ceiling, and low voltage lighting strung over the crowded space. Marinette wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out the multicolor slat wood flooring had come from the Liberty (it hadn’t, Luka had laughingly assured her when she asked, but he had picked it because it reminded him of home). Really, the whole place felt like the Liberty, and Marinette loved it, right down to the friendly, grinning cement turtle statue sitting by the door. The thing was knee high to Luka and while one couldn’t exactly call him pretty, his shell twinkled with embedded pieces of mosaic tile in many colors, and there was an air of mischievousness in his grinning face that made Marinette smile back every time she saw him. He looked exactly like the kind of thing Anarka would go wild for, regardless of the fact that he was incredibly, impractically heavy. She couldn’t imagine what shipping him had originally cost, and Luka’s story of actually getting it to its place by the door had left Marinette giggling uncontrollably. She was positive from the look on Luka’s face while he told the tale that it was never moving from that spot unless someone both bought it, and was willing to carry it away. </p><p>The whole shop was full of fun, eclectic things like that, as well as some more valuable antiques. Marinette loved it, and could picture in her mind the type of customer Luka was likely to bring in. She hadn’t told him that she’d already started a few sketches for his branding, based around a stylized boat. It had taken her a few days to get over the fact that he’d named his shop <em> Second Chance Antiques and Curiosities </em>. She had nearly laughed in his face when he told her, and that would have been really hard to explain. She’d managed to hold it in until she was alone, and then she and Sass had had a good laugh over it. </p><p>“Sorry I have to keep asking for your help,” Luka grunted, as they both took an end of the table he needed moved and shifted it. “I thought I had a plan, but there’s just <em> so much stuff, </em>I keep having to rearrange.”</p><p>“It’ll be easier when you get some customers in here and get some of this stuff—oof—out of your hair.” Marinette sighed as they set the table down in the area Luka had cleared out for it. “Maybe if you used the bigger pieces as sort of...display cases for some of the smaller stuff?” she suggested, stretching her back slightly as she looked around. </p><p>“Yeah, maybe,” Luka sighed, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out eventually.” </p><p>Marinette put her hand on his arm and rubbed it gently. “You will. We’ve both got a lot of lessons to learn, but we’re both adaptable. We’ll make it happen.” </p><p>Luka made an affirmative noise, but sighed again.  </p><p>“Luka,” Marinette said gently, and he looked at her with that same not-quite-there smile. </p><p>“I’m okay. Freaking out a little, but I’ll manage. I’ll be fine once the shop opens and things start happening, it’s just...the waiting is getting to me, I guess. It’s not like I don’t have a thousand things left to do to get ready, but...I don’t know, I’m not explaining myself well.” He looked away from her, and ran his fingers through his hair. It was hanging loose today, and the blue looked bright and fresh. He must have done a touch up for opening week, she thought absently, reaching up to tuck a lock behind his ear. His eyes darted to her with something like surprise and she drew her hand back quickly, self-conscious.</p><p>“You won’t know what the right choices are until you can get people in and see their reactions,” Marinette suggested, and the smile he gave her was real this time, real and grateful, and she smiled back. “You’re better at reading people in the moment rather than predicting people you don’t know—o-or at least you used to be—so I can see how you’d be frustrated trying to do this without any way to get feedback.”</p><p>“You’re not like that,” he muttered, smile falling as he looked back at the shop and sighed. “You’ve probably had a vision and a plan since before you signed the contract.”</p><p>Marinette bumped her shoulder against his. “You’re not me, though. It’s okay to do things your way, and not mine. Opening week is important, but it isn’t everything.” </p><p>Luka grinned at her, and Marinette felt her shoulders curl under his knowing look. “It caused you physical pain to say that, didn’t it,” he chuckled.</p><p>Marinette scoffed and folded her arms, and then muttered, “Maybe.” </p><p>Luka laughed and put his arm around her shoulders, giving her a little squeeze before letting his arm drop. “Thanks for the pep talk, Marinette.” </p><p>He was smiling now for real, and it didn’t fade, and Marinette felt unreasonably proud about it. She opened her mouth to say something, though she had no idea what, when Luka’s phone beeped a familiar tone. He frowned and pulled it out of his pocket, checking the akuma alert. Marinette leaned over without thinking to look as well, dread curling in her gut even as her heart pumped faster.</p><p>“It’s not nearby,” Luka assured her, and Marinette sighed, and then her eyes widened and she jerked back a bit as she suddenly realized how she was crowding him. </p><p>“Well, that’s a relief,” she said, quickly, backing up. “I should—”</p><p>“Watch out!” Luka was lunging forward before she even registered her calf hitting something hard, and he grabbed her arms just as she pitched backwards with a yelp. “I got you,” he said breathlessly, as he braced his feet and pulled her upright. “Sorry, that scared me,” he said, letting go of her quickly, his hands moving to tug the tail of his shirt nervously and nodding at the glass-top coffee table she had almost fallen into. “You could have really gotten hurt. Please be careful.” He grinned sheepishly. “At least until I get this place a little more organized.” </p><p>“Luka.” Marinette stepped forward and hugged him, and though his arms wrapped immediately back around her, she felt herself blushing, the feel of a man’s body against her instead of a half-grown boy’s suddenly forcibly reminding her that they weren’t teenagers anymore. “Couffaines don’t do organized,” she teased, keeping her head down so he couldn’t see her embarrassment. “Stop trying to make it look like you think it’s supposed to, and do it your way. It’ll be fine, and you can adjust from there.” She let go quickly and straightened without looking at him. </p><p>“I have to, um, go finish my painting before it all dries out or...something,” she said quickly, making sure she watched where she was going this time as she walked away from him, face burning. Stupid, why had she done that? Sure, they were friendly, and yeah, they’d fallen fairly easily into something like their old friendship. Luka had clearly meant what he said, about the way friendships come and go, and he seemed perfectly ready to let her take back her place in his life, and it was so easy to just go with it... </p><p>Not exactly her old place, she reminded herself firmly. That was hardly to be expected. He’d always been touch-oriented though, and had been touching her shoulder or her arm or her back just as casually as he ever had, so maybe the hug wasn’t a big deal to him. He probably hugged his friends all the time, and it’s not like he knew that she didn’t. Besides, she used to, and she probably would, if she still had friends—real friends. And Luka was a real friend, so there was nothing wrong with hugging him, especially when he was clearly so worried about whether he could pull off this new business venture. She was freaking out over nothing, surely. She could comfort him; he’d do the same for her—he <em> had </em> done the same for her, so it was her <em> turn </em>, after all, especially being the more experienced when it came to business and marketing, so... </p><p>Marinette rushed through the door of her shop and locked it quickly, and then put her hands over her face and shrieked into them. </p><p>“Marinette,” Tikki said sympathetically, flying up from her purse to pat her shoulder. </p><p>“I know,” Marinette mumbled. “Okay, um...I don’t think I can leave in spots just now without being seen so...let’s go out the back and try that alley a couple blocks over.” </p><p>Transformed and with her mind focused on the goal, she followed the general direction of the alert, and then the screaming, to a fancy restaurant on the roof of a high-rise. Chat was already there, crouched in the remains of the outdoor dining, clearly regrouping. </p><p>“What’s up?” she asked, landing next to him.</p><p>“This restaurant’s nearly impossible to get a table at,” Chat said grimly, with none of the joking humor he would have used once. “Big snob energy. Guess they snubbed the wrong person today. Best guess is the akuma’s target is the maitre’d or the manager, unless there was some random civilian that was especially rude. Looks like your standard entitled rich lady to me, though, so I’m betting on a beef with the restaurant.” He glanced at her. “You got here pretty quick today.” </p><p>“I’ve made some changes in my personal life,” she said carefully. “I’m hoping it’ll give me a little more freedom and you won’t have to wait for me so often.”</p><p>“Not like I have anything better to do, but I’m not complaining,” Chat grunted. “Give me the plan and let’s go.” </p><p>Ladybug sighed to herself. She had always wished he would take this job more seriously, but something had changed in Chat when they took Hawkmoth down, and while he had improved somewhat since then, clearly he’d been having one of the bad days before the akuma struck. Grim and cynical wasn’t an especially good look on him, and it worried her. </p><p>No time to worry about that now though. “Distract and evacuate,” she said. “We need to get the civilians out of there. Hopefully in the process we can figure out which one it’s specifically targeting.” </p><p>“Works for me.” Chat launched himself forward, ready to go as always, and Ladybug moved only an instant later. </p><p>The akuma was obnoxious and destructive, with heeled shoes that could shatter concrete and a banshee-like scream that left Ladybug’s ears ringing even after the cure. Ladybug winced as she looked back at the trail of destruction. Chat just flopped on his back on the  rooftop. </p><p>“Could’ve used some backup for that one,” he muttered.</p><p>“I’m sorry, there was no opening,” Ladybug panted, putting her hands on her knees. “I was afraid to leave.” </p><p>“Not blaming you,” he said, with a hint of his old humor in the half smile he managed as he turned his head to look at her. “Just saying. We could really use a hand more often.” </p><p>Ladybug made a neutral noise. She didn’t disagree with him, but…</p><p>But, but, but. There was always a but. But <em> the rules </em> . But <em> identities </em> . But <em> it was her responsibility. </em></p><p>“Ladybug,” Chat said, the smile falling away as he watched her expression. “I really didn’t mean it that way.” </p><p>“I know,” she said, her voice coming out a tad too high. “It’s fine.” She held out her fist to him and he rolled over on his side to bump his against it. “I gotta get back.”</p><p>“I’m just gonna lay here for a while,” he muttered, and Ladybug sighed, reaching down to ruffle his hair affectionately.</p><p>“Don’t stay out too long, Kitty.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, beep beep. I got it.” He waved his ringed hand at her and then flopped back down to the roof. “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on getting stuck on top of this building.”</p><p>Ladybug huffed a laugh, and tossed her yoyo.</p><p>She transformed a couple of streets away, and glancing at the time, she went up to the apartment instead of back into the shop. Several pairs of large eyes in small faces peeped out as soon as they were sure it was her, and came to circle around her.</p><p>“I finished the pieces you asked me to,” Wayzz told her</p><p>“We cleaned up the paint and sealed the cans that were left,” Pollen piped up. </p><p>“That’s great,” Marinette said with a tired smile, giving them each a cuddle. “Thanks so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.” </p><p>“It is the leassst we can do,” Sass observed mildly, bringing a damp cloth to her. Marinette took it gratefully. </p><p>“Where?” she asked, and wiped at the spot Sass patted. The cloth came away smeared with flecks of half-dry pink paint. Ugh, did she have that on her face the whole time she was talking to Luka? How embarrassing. She handed the cloth back when Sass nodded that she was clean. </p><p>“I should go finish,” Marinette sighed, but instead she sat down on the couch. </p><p>“You should eat first, Guardian,” Pollen told her, hovering. “And rest. There isn’t much left to be done. You can finish it tomorrow.”</p><p>“She’s right, Marinette,” Tikki piped up, perching on Marinette’s shoulder. “You can finish the paint in the morning, and it’s on the other side from the dressing area, so it won’t keep you from getting the curtains up over there or any of the other things you had planned.” </p><p>“It’ll just delay everything by a couple of hours,” Marinette sighed, slumping on the arm of the couch. “I’ll see how I feel after dinner. I’d rather finish it tonight if I can.” </p><p>“Then you’d better go make dinner before you fall asleep on the couch,” Tikki giggled, and Pollen agreed, tugging at Marinette’s fingers. </p><p>“It won’t do for you to be skipping meals!” Pollen scolded. </p><p>“All right, all right,” Marinette giggled, getting up. “I’ll make dinner.” </p><p>The kitchen in her apartment was separated from the living room by a small but usable breakfast bar, so Marinette hadn’t bothered to get a separate table. Instead, she lined up the kwami’s plates on the inside edge and pulled up a stool on the other side of the counter to sit at her own plate. </p><p>She was just finishing up, her thoughts already running on the next things she had to do, when she was distracted by the muffled sound of...a guitar. The kwamis paused in their chatter, and Marinette sat with her fork halfway to her mouth, listening. After a moment she smiled. “It’s Luka,” she murmured. “His apartment probably mirrors ours, so his kitchen and living room must be on the other side of this wall.” Her eyes widened slightly in alarm. “If we can hear him, he can probably hear us if we get too loud. I can pass some noise off as the tv or the radio, but we’ll have to be careful.” The kwamis nodded, but Marinette shot pointed looks at Xuppu, Orikki, and Ziggy in particular. They all made faces at her, but nodded along with the others. </p><p>Everyone was quiet as she finished her meal, smiling as she listened to the wandering guitar. “It’s nice,” she observed to no one in particular. “It’s been a long time since I heard Luka play.” </p><p>It was funny, the effect it had on her. She could feel her shoulders sliding down, and a pleasant calm seeping into her. Had he really made such an impression all those years ago, that she responded so easily to the sound of his guitar even now? She took her dishes to the sink and stood a moment, laying a hand over her heart, and for a moment she heard a different song, </p><p>When she took a breath, though, instead of the scent of metal and river wind, the scent of lemon dish soap filled her nose and brought her back to the present. She smiled at the kwamis, who had busily stacked their little plates next to the sink and were filling it with water and soapsuds. </p><p><em> Right </em>. All of that was a long time ago, and they were different people now. Still, maybe sometime soon she could come to one of his gigs and hear him play for real, and not through a wall. Though...it was kind of nice, knowing she was the only one who was hearing him right now. She wondered if he knew she could hear him. </p><p>The tune changed, took on a little more purpose, and Marinette smothered a giggle. No, she doubted he realized she could hear, because he probably wouldn’t be caught dead playing <em> Love Me Like You Do </em> with an audience, even if he did give it a bit of a metal makeover. </p><p>She’d have to let him know. Eventually. When she could think of a way to tell him that wouldn’t make him think he had to stop. </p><p>She hummed quietly along as she and the kwami finished washing the dishes.</p><p>“Are you going to go back downstairs?” Tikki asked, tilting her head. </p><p>“Mmm...no,” Marinette decided. “There’s still plenty to unpack and put away up here, and you’re right. I can finish the shop in the morning.” </p><p>The next few days were a blur of hard work as opening day got closer and closer. The shop was coming together, and Marinette took comfort in, for once, being able to get everything <em>just right</em>, without anybody telling her it should be different, or complaining that she was too fussy. </p><p>It was exhausting, though, and led to some pretty silly late night giggling with the kwamis as they tried to get her to rest before she made herself totally delirious. </p><p>The day before opening, she walked into <em>Second Chance </em>with a box in her hands, trying not to giggle openly.  </p><p>“Hey, Marinette," Luka greeted, looking up from where he was loading up some display shelves near the counter.</p><p>“Wow, Luka, it looks great in here,” Marinette said, looking around.</p><p>“You were right. When I stopped trying to be strategic and just put things in where they felt like home, it all came together. I’m still not sure it’s the <em> best </em> arrangement, at least it feels <em> comfortable. </em>” He looked much more relaxed, and his smile was easy and true. </p><p>“I think that will work the best for you in the end,” Marinette smiled. “The right customers will like it, and the ones who don’t, well.” She patted the big cement turtle on the head. “Probably aren’t looking for the kinds of things you’re selling anyway.”</p><p>Luka chuckled. “Fair enough. What can I do for you, Marinette?” He slid the case closed and stood, turning to face her. </p><p>Marinette bit her lip, and then held up the small box in her hands. “Well, I...maybe stayed up a little late last night, and I got kind of loopy, and then instead of going to bed like a smart person, I...did something silly. And if you hate it you can say so and I’ll walk right back out and we don’t ever have to speak of this again.”</p><p>Luka raised his eyebrows. “That sounds a little dramatic. What, did you make me a lace nightie with matching slippers?”</p><p>Marinette burst out laughing. “Okay, you’re right, that would be sillier,” she giggled, setting the box down carefully on a nearby table. “No, it’s not for you actually.” </p><p>“Not for me?” Luka put his hand to his chest. “I’m hurt.” </p><p>Marinette giggled again, pulling some things out of the box and turning away from him. “You might not be when you see it.” Impulsively she added, “Turn around.” Luka did, and Marinette hurriedly went to work.</p><p>“Okay, you can look now.” She was barely holding back laughter, and when Luka turned around his mouth dropped open.</p><p>“You’re kidding me,” he said, covering his mouth with one hand as he approached, trying to smother his laughter. “Marinette. Oh my God.” </p><p>The cement turtle now sported a pair of Eiffel tower sunglasses the exact match to the ones Marinette had made for Jagged years ago. He had a choker of studded leather around his long neck and another cuff around one ankle, and Marinette had hung a guitar made of cardboard and purple glitter on him as well. </p><p>“Tada!” she said, throwing out her hands. “He’s a <em> rock turtle, </em> Luka. Because he’s, you know, rock, I mean I know he’s concrete but it still counts. So now he’s a <em> rock turtle </em> for real.” </p><p>“I think those paint fumes are getting to you,” Luka laughed, and then threw one arm around her neck and kissed her forehead before letting her go. “I love it, thank you. It’s amazing.” </p><p>“He can be your mascot,” Marinette giggled, unreasonably pleased and trying to resist the urge to touch her forehead. He’d done that the way he used to do it to Juleka, after all, and how touch-starved was she, that she kept dwelling on every little gesture of affection he made? It was Luka, after all, and he was just like that. </p><p>But he was smiling, wider than he had in days, and it gave Marinette a sense of accomplishment that more than made up for her tiredness. </p><p>“Ready for the big day?” Luka asked as he crouched to examine the turtle’s new guitar. </p><p>“I think so. Yeah, I am.” Marinette brought her hands up and rubbed her arms. “It feels like I’m going to jinx it, saying that. Like one of those dreams I’m always having where I walk into a class or a client meeting and realize suddenly that I forgot to cover half of what they asked for in my presentation, and I forgot my bra on top of it.” </p><p>Luka laughed, rocking back on his heels to look up at her. “Seriously?”</p><p>Marinette rolled her eyes. “All the time. Even my subconscious won’t cut me any slack.” </p><p>Luka shook his head. “Marinette, if that ever happened to you in real life, by the end of it you’d have them convinced that they didn’t need all that stuff anyway and wearing bras would immediately go out of style.” </p><p>“What,” said a dry voice, “the <em> hell </em> did I just walk in to?”</p><p>Marinette’s head whipped around to look at the door, and her mouth dropped open at the sight of the tall, slender woman standing there with her arms loosely crossed and an amused smirk on her face. </p><p>“Hey, Jules,” Luka said, getting up and turning towards her with his arms out. “You made it.” </p><p>“Of course I did, idiot,” Juleka mumbled, but Marinette saw her hide her smile in Luka’s shoulder as she hugged him back. Then, to her mild surprise, Juleka peeked over his shoulder. “Hi, Marinette.” </p><p>“It’s really good to see you, Juleka,” Marinette said warmly. “You look fantastic,” she added, as Juleka came to take her hands and exchange a bise.  </p><p>“I have good stylists,” Juleka shrugged. Her hair was still long, but the purple was gone and it was pulled back into a shining French braid, leaving both her amber eyes bare to stare at Marinette. Her makeup was perfect and Marinette remembered that Juleka was a cosmetics model now. Of course she always had to look her best in public. “Luka told me you were opening your own place. I can’t make the opening, but maybe...maybe I could make an appointment to come take a look?” There was something in the old Juleka in the way she asked that question, a slight curl of her shoulders and drop of her head, and the way she pinched one thumb and forefinger tightly together at her side. </p><p>Impulsively Marinette said, “Why don’t you just come over now? Everything’s set up and you can get first pick if there’s anything you like. Not that you should feel like you need to buy anything,” Marinette added hurriedly. “Just, if anything catches your eye or—okay I’m shutting up now, you probably don’t even have time, it doesn’t have to be now—just, whenever is good! If you want.” She closed her mouth abruptly before she could trip into another line of babble.</p><p>Juleka smiled, her head tilting slightly as if she were still peeking through that curtain of bangs. “I’d love to come over now, if that’s okay.” </p><p>“Really?” Marinette brightened, embarrassment forgotten. “Awesome! I’d love to have your opinion on—well, everything, to be honest.” </p><p>“I can’t wait to see it.” </p><p>“Oh sure,” Luka mocked, and Marinette jumped a little, looking at him. “You said you were coming to see me, but really you just wanted a sneak peek at Marinette’s clothes. I see where I rate.”</p><p>“As long as we’re clear,” Juleka huffed, and walked out of the door. Marinette stood gaping like a fish for a moment, and then followed her, shooting Luka an apologetic look over her shoulder.</p><p>“I’m sure it won’t take long,” she said, but Luka, smiling, just rolled his eyes and waved her on. </p><p>Juleka didn’t exactly gush; she was too collected for that, but her quiet smile and nod of approval as she looked around was more encouraging than a flood of compliments. “It has good energy,” she murmured. “Very you. Gives a sense of your brand from the beginning. I like it.” </p><p>“Thank you,” Marinette smiled, sincerely grateful.</p><p>“It looks like a lot of work.” </p><p>“It was,” Marinette sighed, “But it’s so worth it to see it come together. It’s scary to be doing this all my own, but at least I can make things exactly the way I want them.” She pointed out the curtained dressing rooms, and the pedestal in front of the (very expensive, even second hand) full-length three-way mirror. “I’m planning to do alterations and fittings as well,” Marinette explained, “On anything, not just my clothes. In a limited capacity, of course, so that I still have time to keep the shop stocked. I’m actually hoping to bring in lines from a couple of other independent designers—people I met in school that have an aesthetic that will fit in with mine, just to broaden the range of what I can offer, but...well, I kind of wanted to open with my own things first.” She smiled ruefully and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to drag anybody down with me if I go under in the first month.” </p><p>Juleka laughed, and Marinette smiled at the sound of it. “I’m sure that won’t happen,” Juleka assured her, still smiling. “These pieces are gorgeous,” she added, motioning to the photographs on the wall. </p><p>“It’s nice to see you happy,” Marinette said without thinking, and then bit her lip. </p><p>Juleka seemed to freeze for a long moment, and then she took a long breath that reminded Marinette of Luka. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it,” Juleka said quietly, that slight curl in her shoulders again. “I—I’m...sorry, that we gave you such a hard time back when we were kids. I...understand better now. This is a tough industry and you <em> have </em> to be dedicated and motivated to succeed. I’m sorry that we...well, I don’t think any of us meant to be holding you back, but I understand how it might have felt that way to you.” </p><p>“Oh…” Marinette said lamely, looking away and moving to fiddle with the nearest garment rack. “I didn’t—I mean, I felt bad that I had to bail on you guys so much, but I didn’t feel that way. I just thought, you know, you guys were right and if I wasn’t being the kind of friend you needed...it was okay. You’d have every right to be just as mad at me for choosing my career over you even at such a young age. I <em> was </em>ditching you a lot, and...I could have done things differently. Handled it better.”</p><p>“You had a life beyond school and beyond us,” Juleka insisted, folding her arms uncomfortably. “It was wrong of us to try and take that from you. I don’t know, maybe we felt guilty that we weren’t working as hard, or something, but...we could have made it work. We always made exceptions for Adrien because he was working a career outside of school. We should have at least extended the same courtesy to you. Especially when it was obvious even then how talented and driven you were. You’ve got what it takes to really make it, and it was wrong of us to get in the way of that when we should have been cheering you on.”</p><p>Marinette’s hands stilled for a moment, and it was her turn to take a slow breath. She felt a twinge of guilt, because Juleka of course didn’t know the whole story. It hadn’t been wholly for the sake of her future career that she’d bailed on her friends so often, and it hadn’t been determination to drive forward at all costs that had caused her to stop trying so hard to meet her friends halfway. Her reasons had neither been selfish nor noble. She just hadn’t had the energy to keep up the front any longer.</p><p>But she couldn’t explain it now any more than she could then, so all she could say was a quiet, “Thank you, Juleka.” She took another breath and lifted her head, trying to smile. “You really don’t need to apologize, though. I never held anything against you guys. Besides, we were kids.” Juleka relaxed a little, though she still held herself a bit stiffly. </p><p>Time to change the mood. Marinette rallied her spirits and put the most genuine grin on her face that she could muster as she faced Juleka. “Come on,” she said brightly, moving over to one of the other racks and gesturing enthusiastically for Juleka to follow her. “I have some things that I bet will look great on you.” </p><p>They already had several outfits laid aside for Juleka to purchase when Luka knocked and came in the door, the little bell Marinette had hung over it chiming cheerfully. </p><p>“Hi Luka,” Marinette smiled, looking up from where she was laying another dress across the sales counter. “Sorry, I guess we took up more time than I realized. Did you get bored?”</p><p>“Just wondering if my sister is still going to buy me dinner,” Luka grinned. “I’m starving here.” </p><p>“Then hurry up and die so we don’t have to listen to you,” Juleka called from the dressing room. </p><p>“I’m wasting away <em> slowly </em>,” he called back. “I’ll continue to exist on spite until you feed me.” </p><p>“Do you need any help, Juleka?” Marinette asked, trying to keep her giggles out of her voice.</p><p>“No, I think I’ve—there. Oh, I like this one, Marinette!” Juleka pushed the curtain aside and stepped out. </p><p>“Hm, needs a little tailoring, but only a little,” Marinette said, eyes fastened on the garment, as Juleka made a slow turn. “Let me just—” She stepped over with a couple of clips in her hand and took the slack out of the dress in a couple of key places, clipping it in place. “There. And of course I can adjust the hem if you need it, but I think this length is pretty good on you actually. What do you think, Luka?” She turned and blinked at the look on his face as he stared at his sister. He looked...happy, but his face was crinkling up in a weird way that she didn’t understand. </p><p>“You look beautiful, Juleka,” Luka said, and had to clear his throat. </p><p>“Don’t you dare,” Juleka warned, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes. “Don’t you <em> dare </em> get mushy on me again.”</p><p>“Better,” Luka continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “You’re poised and confident and...I’m just so proud of you. Five years ago that dress would have overpowered you and now look at you.” </p><p>“You’re not going to cry again, are you?” Juleka asked, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“I might,” Luka said, and his voice did sound a little thick. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” </p><p>“I swear he’s cried at every single one of the photo shoots I was dumb enough to bring him to,” Juleka grumbled, giving Marinette a look of longsuffering. </p><p>Marinette giggled as she stepped close again and adjusted a clip. “He loves you.” </p><p>“He’s a sap,” Juleka groaned. </p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Luka and Marinette said in unison, and Juleka snorted. </p><p>“You two are made for each other,” she muttered, and then looked back with concern when Marinette somehow got the web of her thumb pinched in the clip and yelped.</p><p>“Fine, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly, fixing the clip. “There. Take a look.”</p><p>She helped Juleka up onto the pedestal in front of the three-way mirror, and Juleka sighed. “I love it,” she said, glancing at the two dresses and the suit that were already on the counter. “I better not try on anything else though. It’d be a pain dragging Luka’s corpse out of the shop, and I’m going to go broke if you pull out any more perfect outfits. Can you check me out for these, and we can make an appointment for the tailoring later?” </p><p>“Sure! Give me just a second.” Marinette gave her a sheepish smile. “The POS system is new and it might take me a minute to figure it out. Actually you’re doing me an extra favor by letting me try this thing out before I put it through its paces tomorrow.”</p><p>“Hey, can I take a look?” Luka asked, moving around the counter at her gesture. “I still haven’t settled on one yet. I’ve got some ancient thing a buddy loaned me, but I’m hoping I can upgrade in a few months.” He leaned on the counter next to her and grinned. “I’m not above profiting from the months of research I’m sure you did before settling on one.”</p><p>Marinette giggled, shoving him with her elbow. “Off the counter,” she ordered. “You have no idea how many practice runs I had to do with the resin to get good enough to do a project this size.”</p><p>“I can tell,” Luka said, straightening. ”It looks really cool.” </p><p>“You’ve really made the shop yours in such a short time,” Juleka said, looking at the countertop. “Everything about it just screams Marinette.” </p><p>Marinette blushed, and picked up the tablet, tried to focus on walking Luka through the steps of the POS system, explaining the features that had made her go with this system as he leaned close to watch. He smelled different than he used to, she thought absently. Not so much sunscreen and fresh air and teenage boy. He wore cologne now, pleasantly subtle, and only noticeable when he was close like this. It was a more mature scent but it suited him. </p><p>“And then Juleka can put her card in here,” Marinette said, pointing to the slot in a stand on the counter. Juleka did so, and after a moment the machine beeped. “And...there we go.” She showed Luka the screen. </p><p>“Huh. Do you use it for inventory management much?” Luka asked, leaning one hand on the counter next to her as he watched her navigate the menus. She jumped a little when her shoulder brushed his chest, but he didn’t seem to notice. </p><p>Marinette cleared her throat. “W-well like you, I don’t really have <em> standard </em> inventory, everything is unique, so it’s a bit more work to keep the system updated, but—uh—” He was looking at her and not the screen, attentive, and Marinette’s thoughts began to scatter.   </p><p>“Shameless,” Juleka sighed, shaking her head, and they both looked up at her. She smirked at Luka, and Marinette felt her face redden though she couldn’t have said why. </p><p>“Me?” Luka said innocently, straightening away from Marinette and putting his hand on his chest. Marinette was surprised to see his ears were red, and it only made her feel more flustered.</p><p>Juleka snorted. “I can’t believe you’re taking advantage of Marinette like this, you lazy jerk. I bet you cheated on your tests at school too.”</p><p>“I sat next to <em> Dingo </em> ,” Luka reminded her, rolling his eyes. “Believe me, <em> I </em>wasn’t the one cheating.” </p><p>“Whatever,” Juleka rolled her eyes. “So can we go now? I thought you were so—” Her lips curled in a smirk. “Hungry. Or was it thirsty?”</p><p>“I’m ready when you are,” Luka said quickly, coming back around the counter. “Thanks, Marinette.” </p><p>Marinette moved quickly to get a garment bag and package up Juleka’s purchases. It was Luka, though who took them from her with a warm smile. “Congrats on your first sale,” he told her with a wink, and Marinette felt that blush again. </p><p>“It’s hardly her first sale,” Juleka pointed out, picking up a small stack of Marinette’s business cards from the holder on the counter and slipping them into her pocket. “She’s been selling since collége.” </p><p>Luka rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “First sale from your first shop—first brick and mortar shop,” he hastily corrected, when Juleka opened her mouth again. “Juleka, you’re such a pain.” </p><p>“I’m just saying, if you’re going to compliment a girl, you need to be accurate,” Juleka smirked, as Luka began shoving her toward the door. “Good luck with your grand opening, Marinette,” she called back. “I’ll pass your info around the next time I’m in the studio!”</p><p>“That would be great. Thanks for coming by, Juleka!” Marinette called, waving. </p><p>“Why do you have to make everything weird?” she heard Luka mutter as he pushed the door open for his sister and nearly shoved her out of it.</p><p>“It’s not my fault you just <em> are </em> weird,” Juleka retorted, and gave Marinette one more wave before the door closed behind them. “Especially around—” The door cut her off, and Marinette turned and buried her face in her hands, not at all relaxed by the giggling that began in several hidden corners of the shop.</p><p>“Traitors,” she mumbled, and took a deep breath. </p><p>“It’s okay, Marinette,” Pollen said kindly, coming to light on her arm. “You should be proud!”</p><p>“Yes!” Tikki agreed, popping out of Marinette’s purse and coming to sit next to Pollen.  “That was your first client consult for your brand new shop! And it went amazing! <em> Four </em> outfits!”</p><p>“And you impressed Luka,” Mullo pointed out, emerging from one of the garment racks. “He seemed to think you were very <em> knowledgeable. </em>” The kwami giggled and poked Marinette’s blushing cheek. Marinette swatted at him, pouting, but he just phased through her hand with a toothy grin.</p><p>“Luka just needed some information,” Marinette countered, ignoring the snorting giggles that came from all three kwamis. “And Juleka was just being nice. “Though...I suppose she could have been nice without spending quite so much money,” she conceded. “It’ll be great for business if she wears the clothes, too...she works in exactly the kind of circles where word of mouth will be really valuable.” Marinette picked up her tablet and smiled as she punched up her sales history, and looked at the transaction there. “Well...I guess this does make us official, doesn’t it.” She held out her fist and Tikki, Pollen, and Mullo bumped it all in turn. “Come on, let’s get back to work and see how much we can finish up. I want to try and take it easy tonight. I can’t show up at the big opening looking like death.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A note about the kwamis: when I was planning this, I had intended to have Marinette swapping out her jewelry to give the kwamis a chance to be out. Then something came out that made me think they were going to be able to be out all the time anyway, so I didn't bother with it. For the purposes of this story, the kwamis can be out of the Miracle Box as long as they're still in the general vicinity of it, so they can hang around the apartment all they want, and Marinette lets them down in the shop a few at a time, but Tikki's the only one that can go further, unless Marinette is wearing the associated miraculous.</p><p>Many thanks to Malcolm Reynolds for beta reading this chapter for me even though it's a gift fic for her. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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